Spy Versus Spy
by PychoDoughnut
Summary: What would happen if you had a British MI6 agent and an American CIA agent and sent them on a mission against each other?
1. Chpt 1: Directors

_**SPY VERSUS SPY**_

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** I realized that the first version of this made no sense what so ever. The plot was too complicated for me to write, and even if it could be done, it still wouldn't make sense. Thanks for everyone who read and enjoyed the first attempt, i promise that this one will be way more interesting.

**Summary:** What would happen if you had a British MI6 agent and an American CIA agent and sent them on a mission against each other?

CHPT 1: Directors of the East and West

* * *

Two men, both alike in dignity, were casually talking to each other over a cup of tea. Actually, one man was drinking tea, the other was drinking coffee. 

"So, Alan," The round man said. "-Have you decided whether or not you will join the CIA with this investigation?"

The thinner man, Alan, set down his tea. "I am not sure Greg. Working with the you may mean gaining unwanted media attention, which any intellegence agency cannot have."

The round man, Greg, choked on his coffee when hearing this. "Wha-at?" He cleared his throat and took another sip. Then he cleared his throat again. "Are you saying that the CIA is a magnet to the media?" He sputtered.

Alan shook his head calmly. "No, I wasn't imply-"

"So you are saying that all Americans are a bunch of curious dummies who have nothing better to do but stick their noses into things where they have no buisness," Turning purple in the face, he took a deep breath then continued. "-so they must investigate secret investigations then spread them around the world like the idiots they are?"

"Why yes, it is like you have read my mind." Alan responded sarcastically.

"Well then we think alike!" Greg added lightly.

The two men burst out in loud, booming laughter.

"Only joking Alan, only joking..." Greg laughed, and patted his stomach.

"As was I..." Alan said, and failed to hide the sarcasm in his voice.

Greg stopped patting his stomach and glared at Alan. He did not say a word.

"Only joking..." Alan added hastily.

"What! Do you think that Great Britian is better than the United States of _America_?" Greg hissed.

"Well _natually_..." Alan replied smoothly.

"Ha! You wish!" Greg hugged his protruding belly. "I bet my agents could handle this investigation better on their own. Now i will bid you good day!" He stood up.

"You would only hope that!" Alan said, furrowing his eyebrows and standing up as well.

"Oh really?" Greg said, raising a thick eyebrow. "I bet a single agent of the CIA could do this better than all of your forces!"

"Excuse me? I bet my youngest agent could complete this assignment faster than all of your slow agents combine!"

Greg's face matched the shade of a rippened plum. "GAH! Fine! You are on!"

Alan smirked. "Alright. My youngest agent, versus your youngest agent. Or if you aren't sure of yourself, then you can go all out against my youngest agent."

"My youngest against your youngest!" Greg answered manically, and fire burning in his eyes. "The winner has the better agency."

They shook hands.

"Good day to you, Mr. Blunt!" Greg said smiling, and left the office.

Both men were thinking the same thing- Even if they did lose the mission, the fact that their youngest most sucsessful agent was _quite_ young, and would seem impressive all on its own.

Gregory Tenet had a candidate in mind.

Alan Blunt had a candidate in mind. Alex Rider...

* * *

A/n: This was fun to write! Remember, this is only a story, and i dont mean to offend anyone. Review please! 


	2. Chpt 2: The Candidates

_**Spy Versus Spy**_

**Author's Note:** Wow! I got a lot of reviews! Thanks guys... you all make me feel special. And there's even betting going on! Wow.

CHPT 2: The Candidates

* * *

Within the gates and walls of Brookland School, students worked diligently on whatever it was they needed to work on. It was early in the morning, class had just begun a few moments before. 

In one particular mathamatics class, the students were doing the daily warm-up that was written on the blackboard. It was a simple equation.

Solve by completing the square...

There were exactly twenty-eight students in the classroom. Their ages ranged within fourteen to sixteen years, each in their eleventh year of schooling. All the students knew each other fairly well.

There was a kid in the class, like in every class, who suffered from some sort of oddity and which made him stand out from all the rest.

This kid ate alone at lunch and sometime dug for worms in the dirt and ate them. Horrid students would make fun of that kid just to be horrid, but their attempts would fail because that kid was so stuck in his own world, he wouldn't even notice.

But that kid was absent from school that day. He was sick with a cold or something from eating worms.

But the next rather odd kid was present at the time. He was Alex Rider, the boy with the dark brown eyes and exquisitely charming fair hair. His mouth was slightly hard and narrow, which fantastically complemented his attractive face. This was the odd boy who also happened to be extrodinarily handsome. His mysterious absenses was the cause of his perculiarity.

Alex Rider sat at his desk, staring at the board. He had already solved the equation on the board and was waiting patiently for the rest of the class, hands folded neatly on his desk.

He was known throughout the school as _that boy_. Most people in the school knew that he lived with his American caretaker. To their knowledge, Alex's wealthy uncle died a year ago in a car crash and ever since then, Alex was constantly physically abused and was constantly being sent back to a drug rehabilitation institution after he resorted to drugs to escape the pain of his uncle's death. He also went crazy and set the science wing of the school on fire once. But that was their assumption.

Although people thought Alex was a geniune maniac, he was popular. He had friends and a crowd of girls who adored him and his dashing good looks. Without his boyish charm, Alex would most likely be sitting with the other strangr kid, eating worms and having a grand time.

Today, Alex had forgotten his lunch. He loved not being hungry, so he called his caretaker minutes before to see if she could bring his lunch or some money.

He tapped his pencil on his desk and waited patiently for the day to pass. Life for Alex had been horribly dull without the adventure MI6 betstowed on his days, but at least he wasn't risking his life.

Three girls in the back of the class room sighed and whispered about all the movements Alex happenedd to make. _Oh look, he's tapping his pencil. Oh, he sat back in his chair! He's stratching his head... I wish I went out with Alex..._

Suddenly, the classroom phone rang. The professor stood up from his desk to answer it. Alex's eyes darted to the professor, but soon returned to the board.

After a short conversation, the professor hung up the phone then turned to the class.

"Alex Rider, go to the main office." He said.

Alex nooded then stood up from his desk. Jack was really quick to respond.

"Oh. Bring your things, you are going home." The professor added.

Alex's eyebrows furrowed. Why would Jack bring him home? She always emphasized the importance of eating well, but...

After packing up his things, Alex left the classroom and casually walked over to the main office of the school. The campus was virtually deserted with the exception of a few late-comers who were darting to their classes. There was an eerie silence that hung around the building. Alex quickened his pace.

When he reached the main office door, he peeked inside the glass window before entering. The only person who was inside was the secretary of the school.

"Good morning, Alex." A voice said from behind him. He recognized the voice immediatly. Sighing to himself, Alex turned around. He was standing face to face with Mrs. Jones, head of Special Operations in MI6.

* * *

Hours before...

* * *

It was later in the afternoon on winter day in California. The sun was slowly setting over a local high school. Being residents in southern California, a group of girls could swim during whatever time of day they pleased without dying of hypothermia.

The girls water polo team of the local high school was practicing, like they always did. Their practices usually lasted around five to six hours, since that was what it took to be the best.

There were fourteen girls in the pool, thirteen girls were scrimmaging against each other, tredding the water and grabbing hold of their opponent, trying to drown each other. Water polo was a vicious game.

The fourteenth girl was floating at the side of the pool, watching the sky. Sometimes she would flip herself under water or count how long she could hold her breath. The coach didn't want her on the team, she was not dedicated enough. She constantly missed school, and worse, _practice._

Nami Badeau was an incredibly strange girl. She always walked around school looking completely out of it, or in simpler words, high off her ass. She often missed days and came back with some injury, like a fractured toe or a broken collar bone. Half the school assumed she injured herself, since she had so many scars here and there. Even though she was odd, her strangeness made her easy to talk to and easily popular.

People found her highly entertaining when ever she struggled to make up an excuse for yet another absense.

"Nami!"

She was bobbing up and down in the pool when she realized her whole team was screaming at her.

"TSUNAMI!"

Nami wipped the water of her face and looked around. "Can I play?!"

The coach glared at her. "Don't screw around in the water, you're suppose to watch and learn, Nami!" He shouted.

She nodded, her face half concealed by water.

"Your aunt and uncle are here." The coach said. "Get out of the water, I expect to see you here at tomorrow's practice. Okay?"

Aunt and uncle? Nami didn't know she had an aunt and uncle.

"Yessum." She mummbled, bubbles of air splashed around her face.

She popped out of the water and looked around the pool area. There was a man and woman standing at the gate to the pool. They were definetly not her aunt and uncle.

She slowly grabbed her towel and wrapped it around herself. She glared at the two people while grabbing her backpack and sports bag with "NAMI!" embroidered in big, loopy letters on it. She walked over to the man and woman.

"I hate you. Go away?" Nami presented, and smiled.

"Not today. You are coming with us." The man said.

Nami looked back at her team, who had already forgotten about her. She sighed.

"Can I at least put some pants on?" She asked.

"In the car." The woman answered.

Nami frowned and walked with the two adults to a black Rolls-Royce. She climbed inside, wet, barefoot, and practically half naked.

When both adults were inside, the door was closed. The chauffer sat in the driver's seat and the car started moving.

"Hey Giles!" Nami greeted, grabbing a pair of jeans from her bag.

The chauffer waved.

"Pay attention!" The man barked.

"I am!"

"You were requested." The woman said.

Nami had finished slipping on her jeans. "Uhuh."

"Do you except?" The man asked.

Nami looked at the two adults, then pulled an over-sized sweatshirt over her head. She let out a short, loud laugh. "No way! I have three games a week! My coach said I can play if I come to practice..."

"You're not even on the team." The man pointed out.

"No thanks to you!" Nami glared. "Well, I don't want to, you guys are crazy."

"That's too bad." The man said.

"Why?" Nami asked.

They shrugged. "Danny will be deported..."

"That's fine. I'll go with him!" Nami said cheerfully. "I always wanted to go to South America."

"No, you will stay here. With a foster family." The woman said.

"You always use that against me!" exclaimed the girl.

They shrugged again.

"Why don't you use that British guy like you did for Skeleton Key?" She said.

"Well." The man said. "You are no longer in a coma, and he is dead."

Nami blinked. "He's dead?"

The adults nodded solemnly.

"And you want me to die too!!" Nami roared.

"Of course not, Nami. We just want what's best for the nation." She woman cooed.

"At the _unnecessary_ expense of my life." Nami added. "There are far better people than me, I'm an idiot!"

The man shook his head. "We know, we know." Nami scoffed at his blantent agreement."You won't have to exercise your mind. You will be safe, just a young tourist travling with her parents. You will not have to do anything." The man handed her a manila folder.

"Hmm...When have a heard that before?" She said, grabbing the folder from the man's hands. "Oh yeah, last time when I almost died!"

The woman rolled her eyes. "You always bring that up."

Nami snorted. "Well, it is a relevant excuse...Oh!" She exclaimed, "Speaking of excuses, I can't miss my Taekwondo lessons! It's really expensive and-"

"Namine." The man interrupted. "I do not know why you insist on pretending to be a novice when you have already demostrated your merit through _advance _tournaments and past endevors..."

Nami liked to attend a local Taekwondo studio as a clumbsy white-belt student, even though she had mastered the art and had participated in numerous black-belt competitions.

"I know why." The woman teased. "She loves the attention that instructor gives her... He isn't that much older than you, is he?"

Nami's face burned with embarrassment. "...N-no!"

"Oh look Margo, you made her blush." The man said tonelessly.

"I just thought... I thought it would be a good idea to learn the... the basics again and... uh..." Nami stuttered.

"You are going to North Korea. Tonight. Your flight leaves in six hours. You will be dropped off at home to shower and change. Daniel had prepared your things." The woman, now known as Margo said sternly.

"But- but I'm failing my physics class!" Nami added weakly, trying to find an excuse not to go. "Education is key!"

The Rolls slowed to a stop. Giles, the chauffer, jumped out and ran to open the door.

"An 'A minus' if certainly far from failing, Miss Badeau." The man said.

Nami growled in defeat and stomped over to her house, muttering obsenities.

* * *

A/N: Yaay, thats over. I finally updated, how's that? Review please! 


	3. Chpt 3: The Mission

_**Spy Versus Spy**_

**Author's Note:** Whoops! I seem to have offended someone with this. Sorry! lol. I'm pretty sure the people in England brush their teeth, and they certainly do not watch James Bond all day, alright? Dont get me wrong, i love my country, but frankly, the actual CIA is having problems and the american media certainly is not helping... I'd thought i'd... poke fun at it too...But anyway! Sorry this took so long to update.

**Chapter 3:** The Mission

* * *

Nami sat in a lobby of the Los Angeles International airport, staring blankly at the man and woman standing in front of her. It was early in the morning, and the lobby was deserted. She had just read over her "mission briefing", and she was not convinced that they were serious. 

"Are you serious?" Nami stared at them.

The two adults nodded curtly.

The man was Special Agent Kyle Mulder, the woman was Special Agent Margo Scully. Honestly, they were not too sure if the assignment for the girl was actually legitimate. It seemed a bit ...off.

"So," Nami started, reading off the paper. "You want me to go to North Korea, find Kim Jong-Il, and convince him to hand over any weapons of mass destruction..._again_, might I add..."

"Shh!" Agent Scully hushed. "You cant say the 'W.o.M.D' word in an airport!"

Nami ignored her. "...then steal a hair off his head and report back to Seoul _as soon as possible_." She looked at them.

The adults nodded again, disgruntled.

"What?" she exclaimed. "That's crazy, _a hair off Kim Jong-Il's head_?"

"...Yes."

"You guys are crazy...Report to Seoul? That's in South Korea, thats kinda far from North Korea..."

"Yes, and your point?" Agent Mulder asked.

"Well..." Nami sighed in defeat. "Don't I get any gadgets?"

* * *

_**A few hours later**_

Alex Rider stared at Mrs. Jones and Alan Blunt.

They stared back.

Alex raised an eyebrow.

They blinked.

"...What?" Alex said.

"You heard correctly." Blunt said.

"...What?" Alex paused. "...What?"

Mrs. Jones interupted Alex's train off thought. "Time for gadgets!"

Alex: "...What?"

Smithers, the jolly ol' fat man jumped into the office. "Alex, my dear boy, good to see you yet again! I've got another batch of all sorts of delightful thing for your trip... now see here..."

Alex looked at Mrs. Jones and Alan Blunt. "...Wh-"

"Yes Alex!" Mrs. Jones exclaimed.

"...Nevermind." Alex crossed his arms.

Smithers cleared his throat and held up a grocery bag. "You must excuse me, this was so short notice. Anyway..."

He pulled out a little bottle of eyedrops. "Look! Everyone needs eyedrops, and this actually doubles as a type of acid that can eat through any metal! Just dont get in in your eyes, or you will face permenant blindness..."

Alex was about to say something, but Smithers continued.

"I also have..." he pulled out another item. "A spiffy looking wristband! It allows us to know exactly where you are."

Alex expected him to say something else about the wristband, but he did not. It was just a tracking device.

Smithers pulled out another item. "A Superman action figure! This- well, this... what does this do..." Alex leaned back against the chair he was sitting in. "Oh yes! If you spin its head around three times, it will blow up after thirty seconds. And last but not least..."

Smither pulled out his last item.

"Now what boy would be complete without his trusty...Tennis ball!"

Alex snorted.

"If you squeeze it really hard, it will dispel a smokescreen that will help you get out of any given sicky situation!"

Smithers handed the bag to Alex. "Use them wisely!"

Then he wadled out.

Alex turned to the two adults. "What was that?" He asked.

"What do you think? Now, your flight leaves in..." Mrs. Jones looked at her clock. "Ten minutes! Lets go."

Still thoroughly confused, Alex stood up and allowed himself to be pushed out of the room.

* * *

_**A few hours back**_

Nami spun around before boarding the plane that would take her to India, where she would have to switch over to North Korea.

"Wait!" She called to the two special agents. They turned around.

"Yes?" Agent Mulder asked.

"How am I going to find Kim Jong-Il?" She asked.

"Just follow the trail of Kim Jong-Il pictures." Scully said airily.

The two agents turned around and walked away.

Nami scoffed and threw up her arms. "...Okay?" She walked down the terminal and on to the plane.

* * *

Alan Blunt and Gregory Tenet were speaking on the phone together. 

"Just to update you..." Tenet cooed. "My agent has just arrived in the Pyongyang Airport."

Blunt glared at nothing. "So!"

His agent was still hours away.

"Well just wanted to drop that fact on you. Bye!" He hung up.

Alan Blunt slammed the phone down in rage. This was ridiculous! His agent was poorly equipted and the assignment was absurd. He was going to arrange someone to give Alex better gadgets when he arrived in Seoul, as well as a Korean-English dictionary. From Seoul, Alex would be tranported to North Korea.

He sighed.

Get a hair off Kim Jong-Il's head?

That Tenet.

* * *

an: LOL. I'm sorry, that was lame. It wan't worth the... eight month wait. The next chapter will be better, i hope. I feel bad for the agents... This is turning more into a Parody... 


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